Pictures Of You And Me
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: Losing someone close to you is never easy.


This story is a product of another theory of mine. A character death is mentioned, so break out the Kleenex and read on.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

BNBNBNBNBNBNBN

Losing someone close to you is never easy.

It's especially hard when that person is pretty much family to you.

Michael sighed and ran his hand roughly over his unshaven face. Three days ago, his best friend Sam Axe had suffered a massive heart attack, and he hadn't survived. When he got the news, it was like he was in a fog. Fiona had cried, but he was just… numb.

"Michael?"

A pair of feminine arms wrapped around his middle, and Fiona rested her head against his shoulder. She was devastated over Sam's death, but she couldn't even begin to imagine what Michael was going through.

He closed his eyes and leaned back slightly, resting his hands on Fiona's arms. Fiona was the only reason he was even remotely hanging on.

She held him tightly. The funeral was tomorrow, and Michael had barely slept at all since the news. When he did manage to fall into a light sleep, he woke up with nightmares that had him shaking and lathered in sweat. More times than not, even though she was there with him, he didn't fall asleep again.

After a few minutes of silence, Michael reached out and picked Sam's wallet up off of the countertop.

Fiona didn't release him. "Is that his wallet…?"

"Yeah." He opened it slowly and looked at the pictures inside. Several of them were of his former flames, but there was one group shot with him, Madeline, Fiona, Michael and Jesse. Michael remembered the exact day when it was taken, and fresh grief washed over him.

Fiona moved to stand beside him when he trembled. "Michael…" She reached up and brushed her fingertips gently against his cheek.

He leaned into her hand as his fingers ran over the old leather of Sam's wallet. His fingers felt something strange, and with care, he found a particularly old photograph. It was well worn and faded with age, but well taken care of. He held it up, and for a moment, he couldn't make sense of it.

Fiona looked at the picture as well. Standing in front of a tree was a very young Sam Axe. He couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old in the picture, and in his arms was a raven haired child of no more than a year old. "Sam had a child…?"

Michael couldn't breathe. His heart pounded brutally against his ribcage, and his vision swam. It couldn't be…

Fiona looked up at her boyfriend. "Michael?" She smoothed his hair back. "Michael, what is it? Are you okay?"

A shudder went through him, and slowly he turned the photograph over in his fingertips. Fiona's voice faded away as he read the faded words written on the back of the photo.

_Me and Mikey_.

Fiona read the words as well, and she gasped softly.

"It can't be," he whispered chokingly. Sam would have told him. If this was real, Sam would have told him.

But it had to be true. That was him, and Sam was holding him.

His knees suddenly buckled, and he heard Fiona yell his name as he slid to the floor.

When he opened his eyes again, he was laying on the bed he shared with Fiona. For a moment, he remained blissfully unaware. Then it all came back to him like cold water washing over him. His eyes scanned the loft, until he found Fiona sitting in a chair near the bed. She was staring off into the distance, her hands folded in her lap. She seemed to feel his eyes on her, because she turned her head and looked at him.

"Michael…" Rising out of the chair, she moved across the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're awake."

He inhaled deeply. "What happened?"

"You passed out."

Slowly he eased himself upright, and he wasn't surprised when she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "I'm okay, Fi."

She studied his face intently. As well trained as he was to lie, she could see through him in a heartbeat. "No, you're not."

Of course he wasn't. He leaned forward, into her welcoming arms. "What am I supposed to do, Fi?" he whispered.

"I'm not sure, Michael." Her arms wound around him, and she rested her head against his. "But I know you. You need answers."

He rested her head in the crook of her neck. Yes, she did know him.

"And there's only one person who can give them to you. Your mom." Sam was gone, leaving Madeline the only person who could explain that picture.

"It makes so much sense…"

"I know." If there was even the slightest chance that Sam was, in fact, Michael's biological father, so much would change.

"I have to call her." But he made no move to extricate himself from Fiona's arms.

"I know you do." She didn't make a move, either.

They both knew what needed to be done, but at that moment, neither was willing to give up the comfort and security they had found together right then and there. For that brief moment, time seemed to cease to exist, and everything beyond that loft, beyond their bed, disappeared.

The future would come, and questions would have to be answered, but for right then, they had each other. And that was enough.

The End.

A/N: My dad says I'm nuts, but how crazy would that be if Sam was actually Michael's father? It's unlikely, but hey, that's what these stories are for! Hehehe. Thanks for reading, and please review!


End file.
